July
by EvilEatingSanta
Summary: PreRENT. What happens when Collins suggests...anything. :P WARNING: Contains nudity...which is what one must do in order to skinny dip. Mwa ha. Rating for language. COMPLETE.


**AN:** Lucy in the sky with diamonds... Um. This was inspired by Jade (neonnchrome1123). And her one-shot. That hasn't come out yet. shifty eyes Just a quick one-shot cuz I'm failing at the updatingness with Junkie and Jones. Ha, Jones. That is. Diverisfy...blahblah. Sorry about that. Should have a new chapter of DYIFFW in...a day or two. Ehh heh heh...

**Disclaimer:** Jonathan Larson's.

* * *

"July sucks," I grumble, shifting slightly so that the sun is no longer glaring into my eyes. I hear Collins chuckle next to me, making me all the more irritated as I bring my arm up to wipe sweat off of my face. 

I'm in hell. That's all there is to it. I died and I'm in fucking hell because there is no way this heat is normal…

Benny's probably with his new girlfriend Muffy in her air conditioned mansion. For once I can honestly say I'm jealous of him.

"You said that," Collins comments three minutes later, and I sigh.

"Well what the fuck are we supposed to do? You tell us 'oh, Roger, Mark, let's go outside, it'll be cooler outside,' and so here we are, sitting in the middle of fucking Central Park and it's no better than the loft. Great idea. The only thing that's been accomplished is Mark bought a fucking soda. Which he didn't share with me."

"Roger, stop whining," Mark comments, and I yelp when a cold piece of ice slips down my shirt, the filmmaker having dug it out from the bottom of his cup.

"Yeah, quit pouting or I'll kick your ass," Collins mumbles, and I run a hand through my short hair, feeling sweat drip down my back.

"This is fucking sick," I growl, pulling my sweat soaked shirt over my head and tossing it back towards the tree before falling onto the grass.

"Whoo, Roger!" Collins yells, making me scoff, "If you're gonna take your shirt off, might as well go all the way."

"Why? Just to entertain your sick fantasies? Don't think I don't hear you every night, moaning my name," I grin, seeing Collins shake in laughter at my joke, "Besides, you're the streaker, not me."

"True," the anarchist replies, smiling fondly at the memory of him and the Parthenon, "I dunno, though. That fountain looks mighty tempting."

"Isn't that an angel at the top?" I ask, squinting my eyes.

"Yep."

"…that's sort of…"

"Oh, shut the fuck up, Roger. You have no morals, stop pretending like you do," Collins chuckles, and I shrug.

"Whatever. I'm not skinny dipping in the fountain in the middle of Central Park. Have Mark go with you," I say, rolling onto my back to look up at the filmmaker.

"What do ya say, Mark?" Collins asks, "Ready to escape this goddamn heat?"

"Have fun, Collins. And when you get thrown in jail…send me a postcard, hmm?" Mark retorts, rolling his eyes and scoffing at us.

"Eh, Mark you never have fun. Would you go with me?" I ask, grinning and raising my eyebrows suggestively.

"Yeah, let's go."

"Really?"

"No."

"Oh, come on, Roger!" Collins continues jokingly, "You're already halfway there. Plus, that chick is totally having eye sex with you right now. I bet if you stripped she'd throw herself on you in a heartbeat."

I sit up on my elbows and look over to see the young woman staring at me, but she quickly averts her gaze when she sees me smirking at her.

"I can't help it that I'm sexy," I state airily, feeling the grass scratch at my back as I lay back down.

"Shit, Roger. How egotistical can you be?" Mark snorts, and I glare at him.

"What? It's true!" I protest, feigning hurt. Mark just sighs and shakes his head.

"Oh my God…" I hear him laugh a moment later, and I glance up when I notice Collins' laughter, though it seems somewhat far off.

"Holy shit!" I yell when I see Collins' naked ass running towards the fountain, the anarchist jumping over the edge and splashing down into the water.

"Fuck you guys! Come on! The waters…fine!" he says after a moment's hesitation before he starts running around the fountain.

"Collins you crazy fuck!" I yell, jumping to my feet and grinning stupidly. I unbuckle my belt and strip the rest of the way before running like mad for the fountain, only turning around in time to yell at Mark to join us. He simply shakes his head and raises his camera, prompting me to flip him off.

I jump over the edge of the fountain as well, immediately regretting my decision to join Collins in his skinny dipping.

"Shit!" I scream, "Goddammit, Collins this water's fucking freezing!"

"I know," he laughs, "Feels good, don't it?"

The sound that comes out of my throat when Collins splashes water at me sounds suspiciously like a squeal before I rebound, seeing Collins' face fall as I start towards him.

"Oh fuck," he laughs, though he looks scared as hell, "No, Roger. Fuck, don't!"

I ignore the anarchist's pleading as I tackle him, knocking his entire body under the ice cold water as he pops his head back over the surface, breathing deeply.

"Shit!" he yells, standing back up and walking away from me, "Goddammit, Roger you fucking bitch!"

"What?" I ask, grinning as I, too, stand up, "It's payback."

"Payback my ass," he mumbles, and I laugh.

"Aw, you're not mad at me. Come on, my balls are freezing off," I start to climb out of the fountain, stopping with one foot on the ledge when I hear Collins' cat call.

"That's sexy, Roger," he laughs, "Real sexy. Nice butt shot."

"Enjoying the view?" I ask innocently, climbing the rest of the way out of the fountain.

"It's a shame you aren't gay…" he says wistfully, quickly following me. "Such a waste." Collins grins over at me, prompting me to roll my eyes.

"Yeah, sure Collins," I laugh, hearing the anarchist chuckle next to me.

"Have fun?" Mark asks as soon as we make it back to him, and I feel Collins nudge me in the side as I move to grab my jeans.

"Uh, yeah. But now I'm fucking freezing," I say, my teeth chattering slightly.

"Better than being too hot, though," Mark points out and I nod.

I glance up to Collins, who nods his head and grins predatorily.

I finish pulling my jeans on before I lean down and gently take hold of Mark's camera, feeling his grip on it tighten as I attempt to pry it loose from him.

"What are you doing?" he asks, confusion thickening his voice.

"Just…set your camera down for a second," I say quietly, feeling Mark's grip on the damn thing loosen enough for me to pull it away from him.

Collins immediately grabs the filmmaker from behind, sliding his arms underneath Mark's arms as I grab Mark's legs, struggling slightly as Mark attempts to pull free.

"What the fuck? What are you guys…shit. Fuck! Stop! Put me down!" Mark yells, kicking and attempting to pull free from us as we slowly make our way towards the fountain.

"You'll thank us in the end!" Collins exclaims, and I tip my head back and laugh.

"Yeah, the water is _perfect_!" I yell above Mark's screaming, laughing hysterically at all of the concerned onlookers.

Oh,_ god_ this is funny…

Collins and I sling Mark over the edge of the fountain and throw the filmmaker, kicking and screaming, into the fountain, the water splashing up over the edge as his blonde head sinks underneath the surface.

It isn't long until he pops back up again, gasping for breath, his glasses askew.

"Let's go," Collins mutters, breathless from laughing, "Mark's gonna kick our asses if we don't."

I almost don't hear him as I'm too fascinated with the way Mark's face is turning bright red.

We turn around only to run right into a couple of cops, both of them wearing the same, unamused expressions.

"Play time's over, boys," one of them says, and I feel my heart beat faster in my chest, adrenaline coursing through my body.

"Shit," I mumble.

"Run!" Collins yells, and we both take off in opposite directions, the cops arguing for a second behind us before chasing after us.

I only glance over my shoulder once, long enough to see Collins struggling to pull his pants back off as he starts to run naked across Central Park, yelling and screaming indistinguishably at the exasperated cop.

I manage to lose the cop that was chasing me and make it back to the loft, finding that Collins hasn't returned yet.

I do find Mark, however, pouting on the couch and wearing a dry set of clothing, his hair still damp as he glares up at me as I walk into the room.

"July sucks," he mumbles, and I chuckle and ruffle his hair as I walk by.

"It's not so bad."


End file.
